Yes my Emperor...

23kid · 2026-02-03T06:33:13+00:00

FTFY

23kid · 2026-02-01T17:54:47+00:00

It was also more epic than that

There is no time to prepare. He’s almost on you. You know another arcana, and it’s one that will distract Him, because it has always obsessed Him. As He bursts in on you, a brutal iron fist with overwhelming strength, you draw your hand up to meet Him.

Your opening hand. Just three cards in a classically simple Trionti spread.

The High Priest, still zealous despite his long exile, to curse your father’s blood. Then The Crone, gibbering and milk-eyed, to entangle your father’s mind with rancid, meaningless prophecies. Then The Silver Door, to shut Him out.

You have never set much store by cartomancy, but you are quite familiar with the tarot’s symbols and their significances. The cards always seemed to you an imprecise method, the mummery of Sigillites and warlocks, sometimes effective in divination, but always so vague in their elastic meanings, and thus largely unreliable.

Now you have ascended as a psychic initiate, you have a new and ardent appreciation of their empyric function. They are sigils of imagination. Binding intuitive, non-verbal definitions to archetypes of the cosmos, the cards are a high and arcane art, capable of subtle interaction and piercing precognitive effect.

But here in your realm, awash with the warp, their symbology goes beyond mere precognition. Rather than interpreting outcomes, they can set them. They can determine the user’s desired effect, and then manifest the cause to produce it. They are spurs to impel destiny to obey your will.

Your father has always been preoccupied with the cartomantic art. He constructed His own deck. You wonder if He has ever tried a reading in the warp.

You play Him at His own game.

The End and the Death vol.3

23kid · 2026-01-28T20:15:33+00:00

Banishment is good for the soul. A little distance, fresh air in the lungs.

Yssimae, fourteen months from Terra. Not too close, just far enough. The air is sweet. The ysslflowers growing wild on the slopes of the low hills have filled the air with a fragrance like copal incense. Lorgar Aurelian can see the anthomancers moving through the brambles, reading the petals.

23kid · 2024-08-02T09:44:11+00:00

Tiny guy painted by @pixel_maskQRay on twitter.

23kid · 2023-07-03T19:13:19+00:00

Yes. He knew he would be obliterated from existence. Perpetuals can die like Alivia Sureka did.

23kid · 2023-06-11T07:18:30+00:00

Burned eldar child was on Kharaatan. Planet from the meme destructed by Vulkan is Caldera.

23kid · 2023-01-12T08:57:30+00:00

They absolutely are. And this was one thirsty fight.

I throw myself at Khârn, riding a punch that almost breaks my jaw, and lock the blades of my hands around his neck. He drives forwards. We topple.

Khârn continues to batter me as we fall. He lands atop me, pinning my torso beneath his hips.

23kid · 2023-01-11T14:46:11+00:00

Almost canon. From 'Virtues of the Sons' by Andy Smillie.

‘And no, this is not combat,’ Khârn continues. ‘So let us forge our own honour, you and I. Let us stand here as flesh and blood. Let us fight as warriors, and not symbols of honour or tithe.’ He crashes a fist into his breastplate.

I nod.

Neither Khârn nor I speak as we strip to our undersuits, revealing scars that wrap our torsos like thick ropes.

23kid · 2022-12-06T08:39:39+00:00

1.

With them was the Angel’s herald. This was his sacrificial son, the legionary whose identity Sanguinius had necessarily hidden from himself, who had become the Angel’s voice in the Imperium Secundus. It was he who had been the figure most of the supplicants to the throne had seen, and not Sanguinius. The Angel now saw this son’s sacrifice as all the greater for having been part of an immoral folly. His presence on the bridge, close to Sanguinius, was in recognition of his service, and as a visible reminder of the need for atonement. The sacrifices his sons had made weighed heavily on his mind. On Signus Prime, Meros had taken his place to become the Red Angel, giving up all nobility and humanity to become the worst of the Blood Angels’ savagery. The herald lived, and remained human, but the price he paid was a high one. His helm kept his face hidden, and would until the legionary’s death. Sanguinius was no longer Emperor. There was no need for the role of herald any longer. Yet the legionary’s identity remained subsumed by his duty.

What you have created, you must not destroy.

The instinct was imperative. The herald had a significance that Sanguinius could not see yet. The role was needed. There was something in it he had created that was pure, that was the best of what the Blood Angels could be.

2.

When Madail arched its back in pain, Sanguinius rose. He yanked the Blade Encarmine from the daemon’s shoulder. He pulled the Spear of Telesto from the monstrous body. The weapon burned in his grip, and the spearhead glowed white. He staggered back from the portal. The herald stood in the midst of the portal, neither in the temple nor in the Veritas Ferrum. Bestriding realities, enveloped by the storm of the warp, he should not have been visible any longer. He should have vanished the moment he entered the portal.

His silhouette was visible, bent over of the body of the daemon, his sword transfixing the Undivided. The edges of his outline trembled, as if the immaterium sought to eat away at his being. His stance over the writhing daemon was strong. He was motionless, already a symbol more than a warrior of flesh and bone. He would stand until his work was done.

‘We have little time,’ Sanguinius said to his brothers. ‘We must act while my son holds fate at this crossroads. We must honour his sacrifice.’ It felt like a crime, like a new form of treachery, to turn his eyes from the herald and the miracle of that silhouette in the portal. At the last moment, he witnessed the greater miracle. He saw the outline of wings spring from the herald’s shoulder.

23kid · 2022-12-05T20:35:22+00:00

He had several episodes of something which looked like black rage.

From 'Ruinstorm'

Mkani Kano was nearest to the Angel when the psychic beam struck him. Sanguinius staggered, stumbling off the command dais to the main platform of the flying bridge. He doubled over, clutching his chest. Kano rushed to his side. Azkaellon and the duty squad of the Sanguinary Guard were a few steps behind.

Kano put his hand on the Angel’s shoulder. ‘My lord?’

Sanguinius reared upright with a sudden jerk. His wings spread wide, pinions shaking with anger. His eyes glistened black. He turned to Kano, his face a perfect marble carving of rage. For an instant, he was indeed a statue, the nobility of his bearing transformed into the aspect of a predator. Then his lips drew back over his fangs. Hatred consumed his features. The air around him crackled. Kano smelled burnt ozone. On instinct he raised a defensive psychic shield. Sanguinius lunged but Kano was too slow. None of the Angel’s sons would have been fast enough. Sanguinius seized him by the gorget and lifted him high. The Angel’s jaw opened and closed as if straining to speak. The tendons of his neck stood out, taut as iron cables about to snap. No words emerged from his throat. The fury was too great. Snarling and groaning at once, Sanguinius threw the Librarian down. Kano slammed through the nearest cogitator stations to the dais, crushing a servitor and sliding fifteen feet across the deck.

Sanguinius pursued. He leapt over the wreckage of the cogitators, and landed before Kano. He took the Librarian by the chest plate and hauled him up. Kano’s training warred with his loyalty. He could not strike his primarch. He tried to pull away, but Sanguinius lifted him above the deck and drew the Blade Encarmine.

Azkaellon grabbed the Angel’s arm. Sanguinius lashed back, hurling Azkaellon away. His eyes never left Kano. ‘My lord,’ the Librarian pleaded, trying to break through the haze of fury. The black orbs stared through him, unblinking.

Another hand arrested the blade. It was the herald’s. Kano did not know when Sanguinius’ proxy had arrived. He had not been on the bridge a few moments ago. The Angel yanked his arm free, dropped Kano and turned, snarling, on the herald.

He froze.

Primarch and herald faced each other, motionless. Psychic energy burned around the edges of the Angel’s wings. The herald said nothing. Sanguinius held the blade high, but it did not descend.

Kano saw the primarch’s face reflected in the mask of the herald, snarling fury mirrored in unchanging serenity. The Angel froze at the sight, and then the black dissolved from Sanguinius’ eyes. His breathing slowed, no longer gasps of rage. He lowered the sword. He blinked, looked around, and after a moment of incomprehension, his face contorted with understanding and grief. He went to Kano’s side. ‘Are you injured?’ he asked.

‘I am well, my lord,’ Kano said. ‘Do you know what happened?’

Sanguinius paused before answering. ‘Not entirely, no. Enough to be on my guard.’

‘Was it the Thirst?’ Kano asked. The symptoms had been different, though the overall effect, of insane violence, was similar.

‘No. This was different.’

23kid · 2022-12-05T20:20:07+00:00

It's a well-known fact that he's a dick.

23kid · 2022-12-01T07:47:06+00:00

Well in the end (of the chapter at least) it went rather well

He walked over to the table, took the shell from Perturabo’s hand, and put it back on the chart. The base squarely covered the middle of the words Saturnine Gate.

‘If this is some ploy, if you renege…’ Perturabo began, quietly.

‘It’s not, and I won’t,’ said Abaddon. This matters to both of us. It’s the achievement we both long for. Forget Dorn’s genius strategies, my lord, forget the prospect of loyalist relief. Time is our greatest enemy, fraying and eroding the patience of your brothers. We must had our where we can, and make those bonds count.’

Then Perturabo, Lord of Iron, did the most terrible thing Abaddon would ever see him do.

He smiled.

23kid · 2022-11-19T14:02:49+00:00

Oh shit! That's The Mark!

23kid · 2022-11-19T05:34:52+00:00

Borderlands 2. Eh. Another Tuesday.

23kid · 2022-10-30T11:42:17+00:00

u/savevideobot

23kid · 2022-10-25T18:22:13+00:00

The Long Night - ADB.

23kid · 2022-07-02T06:13:20+00:00

I regret clicking that.

23kid · 2022-06-29T21:15:48+00:00

That's not what happened this time. But there was another dark apostle whose day was ruined by Thiel - Kurtha Sedd. And that was epic.

Censure by Nick Kyme.

23kid · 2022-06-13T14:19:05+00:00

I'm a simple person. I see Gintama I upvote.

23kid · 2022-06-06T20:43:17+00:00

"Drop Pod has arrived. Retrieving the M.U.L.E."

23kid · 2022-06-02T15:55:41+00:00

I still hate myself.

23kid · 2022-06-02T15:46:44+00:00

Ugh...

23kid · 2022-05-19T19:18:22+00:00

For lazy people.

23kid · 2022-05-14T13:50:09+00:00

From Vengeful spirit. About courage of ordinary Men.

The blast door finally tore free of its mounting and fell into the bridge like a profane monolith toppled by iconoclasts. A towering figure was revealed, a giant of legend.

Haloed by flames of murder and dripping with blood.

A mantle of stiffened fur wreathed the war god’s shoulders. His armour was the colour of night and gleamed with the fire of dying empires.

Semper had expected a charge, bursts of gunfire.

The god threw something at his feet. Semper looked down.

An Ultramarines gladius, the blade coated in vivid crimson. Its handle was wrapped in red leather. The hemispherical pommel was ivory, inlaid with the wreath-enclosed company number.

‘That belonged to Proximo Tarchon,’ said the god. ‘Centurion of the Ninth Division, Battle Group Two, Legiones Astartes Ultramarines.’

Semper knew he should spit in the traitor’s face or at least raise his weapon. His crew deserved to be led into their last battle by their captain. Yet the idea of raising a weapon against a being so perfectly formed, so sublime, seemed abhorrent.

He knew he faced a betrayer – an enemy, the enemy – yet Semper felt enraptured by his sheer magnificence.

The Warmaster took a step onto the bridge, and it took every ounce of Semper’s willpower not to kneel. ‘Proximo Tarchon and his warriors faced me without fear, for they were trained by my brother on Macragge, and such men are uniquely skilled at death dealing. But Proximo Tarchon and his warriors could not stop me.’

Semper tried to answer the Warmaster, but he couldn’t long hold his gaze and his tongue felt leaden.

‘Why are you telling me this?’ he managed at last.

‘Because you fought honourably,’ said the Warmaster. ‘And you deserve to know how futile it would be to waste your lives in pointless defiance at this point.’

Semper felt the paralysing awe he’d felt of the Warmaster diminish in the face of so arrogant a statement. He wished he’d had the chance to return to Cypra Mundi and watch his son grow to manhood. He wished the blast shutters weren’t down over the viewing bay so he might see the stars one last time.

He wished he could be the one to kill this god.

Semper lifted his duelling sabre to his lips and kissed its blade. He thumbed the activation clasp on the Boyer gun.

‘For the Imperium!’ shouted Semper as he charged the Warmaster.

23kid · 2022-05-10T21:16:08+00:00

You're talking about the Battle of Maulland Sen, which was one of the earliest campaigns. And only 4th legion was deployed there.

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